‘Game Of Thrones’ Recap, Season 6 Episode 5: The End Of The Road-or For Hodor

Hi, my name is John, and I’m recapping Game of Thrones this season, because that’s how the curse works.

This is my fifth recap and they keep getting better and better. This week’s recap is probably the best so far. I really think I’ll be remembered for these. They’ll probably be studied in Advanced Recap classes in journalism school. Maybe I’ll guest lecture at a famous journalism school, like Harvard. I’ll show up in a tweed jacket with elbow patches. A little absent minded with Doctor Strange-like streaks of grey in my hair. But sexy! And I’ll tell the eager, bright eyed students how I did it. How I singlehandedly wrote a weekly recap that illuminated the human condition. “How did you do it?” they’ll ask. “Talent,” I’ll respond.

Anyway, you’re welcome.

I was going to pad my recap this week with my favorite Game of Thrones theories. But this week’s episode was full of great stuff. No High Sparrow! That said, my two favorite theories are “Jon Snow Is A Targaryen” and “Kylo is Rey’s Cousin.” Maybe next week? Is there even a show next week? Ugh. I hope not. It’s Memorial Day weekend. I have tickets to go to a baseball game. I am not a huge baseball fan but I do love me a hotdog or two. Just mustard. People who put ketchup on hot dogs are, somehow, damaged. It makes me sad. Why would you ruin a perfectly tasty beef torpedo with ketchup? What happened to you? Open your secret heart.

Forgive me, I’m a little loopy right now. Normally, when I write these recaps, I stay up until the wee hours of the morning because HBO won’t give me advanced copies. I can’t blame them, though. Apparently, some little blogger Gollum’s got their webbed fingers on advanced copies and leaked them last year. So I have to wait for the episode to show up on HBO GO, watch it, then get to work. It’s 1:43 AM as I write this. I’m not even drinking La Croix right now – I moved to the hard stuff and am out of my mind on Diet Coke. Soon my eyes will go white like Bran’s and I’ll fall into a deep trance and I’ll wake up tomorrow morning with two thousand barely comprehensible words.

Here’s what happened on last night’s Game of Thrones:

The climax of this episode made people FEEL so many EMOTIONS. Twitter exploded! For a brief moment it seemed as if everyone stopped Tweeting thoughtful political opinions that are really changing the world. I felt nothing, of course, because I am a journalist. I only dispassionately record what I see. Here’s what the ending taught me: horrifically shitty things happen in Westeros to people who are good and noble. This is an important real life lesson, too.

We open with one of my favorite things in all of Game of Thrones – scrolls! I do love a scroll. I love a scroll being unrolled and read. I would be a great scroll unroller and, also, I’d remember to slowly and methodically reroll the scroll as I pondered the words inside. Burgeoning Queen of Vengeance Sansa gets a scroll that invites her to a meeting with Littlefinger. I think Littlefinger may be the Ted Cruz of Westeros. Ha, ha, remember that guy? Ted Cruz, man. He looked like he didn’t produce any saliva! That was a topical reference from two months ago.

The meeting between Littlefinger and Sansa is tense, which is understandable, seeing that he left Sansa to men’s rights activist Ramsay Bolton. Littlefinger tried to sort of play off that MAYBE he didn’t know that Ramsey is a sadistic sociopath when, obviously, sociopathic sadism is Ramsey’s brand. Sansa was having none of it and my heart almost exploded when I thought Brienne would cleave Littlefinger in twain. After turning down his offer of help taking back Winterfell, Littlefinger drops a bit of information about Sansa’s uncle: he’s reclaimed his own castle and has an army and he can probably help with that. Littlefinger, you sneaky dick!

Now this next scene made me roll my eyes, because it was more stickfighting between Arya and her frenemy at the Suicide Temple. How many times do we have to see this scene? Arya is crap at stickfighting, and the other woman is really good at it. I have to give Arya credit, though. She doesn’t give up. Me? I would have given up three episodes ago. I’m probably not going to be very good at stick fighting. I’m more of a Raphael, tbh. Arya ends up getting her first mission, though, in Face Depot. Her first step towards becoming a magical assassin.

Her mark is part of a theater troupe performing a bawdy play about the death of King Baratheon that is way too kind to Joffrey and not so much to Ned Stark. Arya is visibly disturbed at how her family is portrayed by these actors. At this point, I’d like to mention that up until this scene, I never knew where I would fit in if I lived in George RR Martin’s nightmarish faux medieval rape fantasy world. I would obviously be writing topical comedies full of fart jokes and touring the Free Cities. It may shock you to learn I did not go to journalism school. I, in fact, have a Bachelor of Fine Arts in THE THEATRE. When I was a young man I thought all the money was in playwriting and it turns out I was very, very wrong. In fact, the following scene, when Arya sees the person she is to assassinate, reminds me of my youth. This brief scene happens backstage and it features a penis, testicles, butts and boobs. I miss you, theatre, thy ribald mistress. Can Arya bring herself to off this innocent person? She’d better, or she’s utterly useless to the narrative.

Next up: were back to Bran and Treebeard briefly. In a flashback, we learn that the Children of the Forest created the White Walkers to defend against the coming of man. Holy shit, that was a bad idea. Just a reminder that the Children of the Forest are the indigenous Keebler battle elves of Westeros. I dated one back in the 1990s. She was into Tori Amos and reiki. We had sex in a yurt once. I drew the line at diablo sticks and, so, we broke up. Love is fragile. Cherish it while you have it.

We then return to the Iron Islands, where all the heavy metal Gorton’s Fisherman are assembled. What a fun bunch. They are in the middle of the Kingsmoot, which is the awesomely ridiculous term for the ceremony where the Ironborn choose a king. We are currently in the middle of our own Kingsmoot. Use that term in conversation today! Long story short: Theon tries to nominate his badass sister Yara as queen, but Evil Uncle makes fun of the fact that he got his dong chopped off. Evil Uncle becomes king, but Yara and Theon steal all the boats. Evil Uncle commands the remaining Iron Born to make lots and lots of boats. Oh yeah, Evil Uncle is going to get his revenge in two, three years tops. See you in season seven, Evil Uncle!

We then get a scene between Daenerys, Jorah, and Daario. It’s not a threesome. This show doesn’t have enough threesomes. There are, like, eight different sets of threesomes that I would find agreeable. But, whatever, plot. Daenerys is feeling pretty good about setting all the Khals on fire and her brand new Dothraki army. She reminds Jorah that he’s a creepy stalker. Jorah tells her he has a fatal skin disease. She gets emotional because, you know, Jorah is a nice guy, he just has boundary issues. It’s a poignant moment, I guess. Jorah was a little manipulative if you ask me. Daenerys insists Jorah go find a cure and return to her side, because bitch is going to take her army of Horse Klingons and dragons and fuck up Westeros but good.

I kind of dozed off during the next scene in Meereen. There’s some more talking between Tyrion, Varys, Grey Worm, and Missandei about the uneasy peace they brokered with the slave masters. I’m going to put this out there: Tyrion and Varys are going to leave Meereen at some point because it’s boring if they don’t. Thankfully, we’ll be spared the inevitable fate of the slave of Meereen. Oh well. This isn’t Game of Meereen. The next scene is slightly more interesting: Tyrion and Varys meet with a High Red Priestess who is really, really into Daenerys and her flamethrower bat-iguanas. As we all know, these High Red Priestesses are crones wearing magical, and beautiful, skin suits. Varys doubts the powers of the priestess and brings up how the last guy to follow her wacko religion is dead. So she proves her powers with a story about the sorcerer who castrated Varys. Priestess: Remember when the wizard tossed your junk in the fire, and a voice spoke from the fire? Guess who that voice was. Varys: Whaaaaaaaaa?

Back at the wall, Sansa dispatches Brienne on a mission to contact her Uncle and ask for reinforcements. THIS IS A BAD IDEA SANSA. But Brienne does what she is told. Probably my favorite moment in the episode happens next, and that’s wildling Tormund making sexy googly eyes at a disgusted Brienne. I don’t ask for much. I really don’t. I just want these two to fall in fearsome greasy warrior love. I want them to have giant murder babies. I want them to be happy. Please, someone in Westeros, be happy. These two are good people. You know who else is a good person? Podrick, Brienne’s squire. Oh, you know who is ALSO a good person? Hodor. Nothing bad will happen to him, right? Naw. He’s a sweet, loyal hulk. He’s fine.

Okay, so, final scene. Lots happens. It’s good. I like that the producers reestablish how the ice zombies are an extinction level threat. Like, the actual game of thrones is absolutely pointless so long as there’s an unstoppable army of vintage Sam Raimi evil dead coming for everyone. Anyway, Bran screws up. He logs on to the wrong time-travel root and is transported directly to the Night King. Remember the Night King? He’s our next president. The Night King can see Bran, though, and touches him. NEVER LET THE NIGHT KING TOUCH YOU.

This snaps the kid out of his trance and he is given bad news by Max Von Sydow: they’re coming. And he is not wrong. The White Walkers and their horde arrive at the magic cave, which is vainly defended by the Children of the Forest. The next few moments are as intense as anything that’s ever been on Game of Thrones. The Slurpee-colored Cenobites attack and Meera takes one down. Bran possesses Hodor in order to beat a hasty retreat. The man in the tree is killed. Summer, the direwolf, is killed. The main Child of the Forest is killed, but before she dies, she sets off a hand grenade. What? A what? A hand grenade? Go with it, John. Push forward. Don’t look back. The zombies are crawling on the ceiling chasing Bran, and Meera, and Hodor. The elves have hand grenades. Deal with it. RUN BRAN, MEERA, AND HODOR! The three come to a backdoor. Why do the elves have a backdoor? There isn’t a frontdoor? Is this where the door they open to put out the trash? Don’t dwell on it, John! The zombies are coming! Meera and Bran make it out the door as a tidal wave of killer skeletons crash against it. “Hold the door,” Meera shouts at Hodor. He does.

We suddenly zap back to the past. Bran is still possessing Hodor, who is using his great strength to keep the door closed. But we’re back to a time when Hodor was the stableboy known as Wylis. Wylis sees Bran and has a seizure. Somehow, the magic is too much for him. Past and future begin to collide into one. The desperate plea “Hold the door” echoes through time and twists and mangles into “Hodor,” the word that would become the damaged Wylis’ only vocabulary. Wylis becomes Hodor. He understands what is happening in the future. You see, Hodor, that gentle giant, has known his grisly fate for decades. And yet, he served. Sacrificed himself. He did his duty. Is there any knight in Westeros as selfless and honorable as this laughing stock? The wights tear Hodor apart but it is too late: Meera and Bran have escaped into a snowstorm.

Oh, jeez. Aw, man. Emotions. Ugh. I have no use for them.

I’ll see you next week. Unless I have it off. Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t want to live in a world where there are no Hodors. I mean, Brooklyn has no Hodors.